


dreamscape

by youngand_doomed



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dream Team SMP Setting (Video Blogging RPF), Bisexual Male Character, Depression, Dreams, Dreams and Nightmares, Dreamscapes, Established Dreamnotfound, Established Relationship, Fluff, Gay Male Character, Humiliation, Love Confessions, Male Friendship, Minecraft but real life, Multi, Not Canon Compliant, Scarification, hes basically stuck in prison, its not canon but like yeah
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-15 21:46:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29071248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youngand_doomed/pseuds/youngand_doomed
Summary: There’s a certain beauty in knowing that you’ve reached your peak in life. You’re surrounded by things, people even, that anyone with anything would consider normal, but for Dream, it’s every-fucking-thing. Even training is fun - your axe clatters against shields, and the laughter ringing from his friends’ mouths is like the sound of angels singing. Coming from not much at all, the simplest thing is perfect.((This is set in the Dream SMP, as their characters and not real people))
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Kudos: 11





	1. burning

**Author's Note:**

> hey so uh  
> introduction to the mcyt fandom: my name is frankie, he/him but they is fine, and im a writer of sorts.  
> i dont update often, only when inspiration strikes deep from my adhd ridden brain.  
> so yeah!! also expect future chapters to be longer - ill probably write the next one when i wake up, but its getting late where i am.  
> i love you all, stay safe babes  
> \- frankie <3

There’s a certain beauty in knowing that you’ve reached your peak in life. You’re surrounded by things, people even, that anyone with anything would consider normal, but for Dream, it’s every-fucking-thing. Even training is fun - your axe clatters against shields, and the laughter ringing from his friends’ mouths is like the sound of angels singing. Coming from not much at all, the simplest thing is perfect.

Right now, he barrells dangerously over huge splits in the land, sprinting through unexplored areas of the terrain. There’s Sapnap and George on his heels. Dream hears the buzz of a bee behind him, and then the faint screams of his friend as he accidentally pesters one of them and unleashes the whole swarm. He is going to win this time - a two vs. one battle may seem unfair, but he can do it. All he needs is some wood, if he could stop for some wood…

He slows down briefly to pick up some twigs from the sand, and the whole ground collapses below him. A string of curses ring loudly from his mouth, and he hears the sweet laughter of his friends. It won’t be too bad, he tells himself, but then there’s the heat of the lava rising, oh my god, he’s going to die. He screams.

There’s a beauty in knowing that you are falling to your death. There it is; your life really does stretch out in front of your eyes. He remembers waking up, his memory blank, in the middle of a field, and slowly meeting people who knew the terrain. His feet reach the lava as memory-Dream hugs memory-Sapnap for the first time, and there’s no excruciating pain. His memory shows him what it should feel to burn alive in burning magma, but that is not what is happening here. There’s something extremely wrong about this situation. His life stops flashing, George and Sapnap’s voices drift into the back - they are no longer laughing at him.

Dream woke up, drenched in sweat. Fuck. He was most definitely not burning alive, but was instead in a freezing sweat, his body covered half by a thin red blanket. He wondered why he was basically naked, and suddenly he remembered the night before. They’d taken away his clothes to wash them; of course they had. No doubt they’d go through every seam to check he had no hidden pearls, or hidden… what else could he possibly hide inside a jacket that would help him escape? He’d tried sneaking in an arrow, so he could take his last life himself, but they were simply too big to be inconspicuous.

Slowly, he hauled himself out of the bed and tugged his boxers up around his hips. He was thinning. They barely hung onto him anymore, with only his jutting hip bones giving them a chance. What did it matter anyway? There was no one in here but himself and his thoughts. Dream sat on the edge of his cell, and sighed deeply.

He longed to go back into his dreamscape. There, he was free. It wasn’t a memory, perhaps, but maybe an amalgamation of other, less terrifying memories into one truly haunting one. He felt the beginning of a splitting headache forming behind his eyes, and rubbed them to no avail. His eyes weren’t used to such a bright light; being exposed to this much at once made him long for his mask back.

In here, there was nothing to mask him at all. He barely had anything to cover him, so they all got to see the vulgar scars he’d gotten over the years. The one they jeered at him for the most was the faded cross over his heart - “Who gave you that one, sweet Dream?”. It had been George, years earlier, long before the first war. They had decided they needed a mark on each of them, so they would never forget each other, and Sap had decided the heart. So Dream had carved a cross above Sapnap’s heart, he had done George’s and George had done Dream’s. 

He almost felt stupid now, as he looked down at it. How had they ever thought they could forget each other? Of course, he doesn’t know what the other two are doing - they could have totally forgotten him. Sam could’ve given everyone memory-wiping potions that made them forget Dream altogether. But he knew he could never forget either of them; hell, everyone he had met had had some sort of impact on his life. He fucking hated Jschlatt, and everything that his kingdom had become, but he knew that he would never forget him.

Bile rose in his throat, and he leant over the side to throw up into the pit of lava. Something sickened him about forgetting. Maybe it was the diet of plain bread wearing on his stomach, but something was sickening about the idea of forgetting everything you’d ever known.

Sam came in behind him, and waited patiently at the bars for him to notice. Dream did notice; there was a terrifying sensation of being watched in a room that you’re usually alone in. He turned around, and stood up.

“You’re going to be allowed visitors from tomorrow. One every other day, if you behave,” Sam said, his voice slow and careful. He felt as if he was being treated like a wild animal that could maul a toddler at any given moment if it wasn’t treated with caution.

“Why? Who wants to visit me?”

For the love of God, let it be Sapnap and George. They’d get him out of this place in a matter of weeks. He knew it wouldn’t be allowed, but he longed for the sound of their laughter in his ears again. Fuck, he’d do anything to reach through the bars and hold George’s hand again.

“Techno. He requested specifically that he wanted to be the first to see you.”

Techno. Jesus fucking Christ. He would just be coming to gloat, to show that he had taken everything from Dream. There was a distant gnawing deep inside him, and he wanted to please it, but this was just deepening it.

“Okay,” was all Dream could say, and “Thank you, Sam.”

He guessed that he’d have to see Techno first thing in the morning, or last thing at night. Once Sam had left, he lay down on the bed and sighed again. His hair fell in his face, and he felt himself flash hot with shame at what he had become. From a young, hopeful boy to a deeply regretful man, locked inside an unbeatable prison to protect the citizens he had built a nation for. It was ironic, really. He had all the power, but couldn’t fathom it to break himself out of here.

Dream slipped into a happier place - his dreamscape. There, he ran through fields of velvety grass, free from the weight of what his life had become. What he had caused. What he had pushed his friends through. He fought the images that his brain pulled forward of George’s sobbing, and blocked out the memory altogether. He was a good person, he swore in his deepest soul that he was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> twitter: @youngand_doomed  
> tumblr: @invrtolduwhtido  
> instagram: @frnk13xo


	2. blade

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> to anyone reading this: i dont mind if this fanfic gets brought up with the ccs - in fact, id be honoured if this was even good enough to be brought up to them. im not super invested in them like i am with the bandom stories that i write, but i do love this storyline and the idea of meeting someone in a dream!!  
> anyway, as always, stay safe babes  
> \- frankie <3

Soft velvety grass underfoot, Dream walked endlessly. He wore his mask once more, and above his head, the sky was starting to turn from an arctic blue to a deep indigo that gave the moon permission to guide his path. For once, he was alone; there were no monsters chasing him and no one watching over his shoulder. Except, maybe he wasn’t completely alone. When you can feel eyes on you, there is a tingling on your back, and it was starting to rise up again. He started to run. He just wanted to be alone.

The grass started to feel like nails with every step he took, and it was so fucking painful. Looking down, there was blood seeping from gashes in his feet. He begged himself to wake up - this had to be some sort of sick, sick nightmare. Suddenly, there was another set of footsteps in front of him, and he turned his gaze back up to the direction that the feet had walked.

George. He was standing there in the clearing. He couldn’t see him properly, but he was sure it was him. Despite the pain, he ran faster to catch up to him, and swept him up in his arms. Dream was surrounded by him once more.

“Dream?” He asked, smiling widely. His voice sounded just as comforting as it had when they’d spent their last day together, and Dream wondered if George still thought about him the same way. “I missed you.”

“I miss you too - how are you here? Inside my head. I thought.. I mean, I know there’s something torturing me to these nightmares.”

“It doesn’t matter; don’t overthink it. I’m here, and so are you.”

George took his hand, and started leading him onwards. Both of them were bleeding from their feet, leaving a trail of crimson for anyone to follow them by, but it didn’t matter. This was their space - even before the prison, their safe space had been inside their own heads.

They sat down on top of a cliff, overlooking the ocean that stretched out in front of their eyes. He hadn’t let go of his hand, and Dream silently willed him to never lose the feeling of his touch. The stars sparkled above them, flickering softly like the light glinting from a sword.

“George,” Dream started, and then stopped. He didn’t know what he wanted to say. Instead of talking, he simply squeezed his hand tighter and looked over at him.

“Don’t worry about what will happen, Dream,” George spoke after a moment, his voice soft and calming. “Something will happen, and you’ll get out of that place. Someone is coming up with a plan right now.”

“But how do I know if we will still be the same once I get out?”

George sighed. The stars reflected off the glasses on his head, and made him look like he had a halo. Truly, he was an angel - maybe the gods had finally realised that, and were helping him show it to the world.

“We’re meant to be together, Dream. As surely as the land meets the sky at the horizon, as the turning of the Earth, as the sun will rise to wake you. One day, we’re all gonna die, but I’ll sure as hell still be here holding your hand. So don’t think that I’ll have forgotten how we were, because I don’t. Me and Sapnap are just waiting for your return, I promise. Hell will freeze over and heaven will burn to the ground before I’ll willingly forget you.”

This wasn’t the real George, he knew it wasn’t. George had always struggled to tell people how he felt, and here he was, pouring out his heart to him. But maybe this was the version that Dream had fabricated in his mind about him. Maybe this was simply Dream’s subconscious telling him what he needed to hear. He knew that heaven would burn down before he let George forget him - hell, if he did, he’d go up there and burn it to the ground himself, saviour of the world and all.

Slowly, he stood, bringing this version of George with him. He cupped his hands around his cheeks, drawing him near, and kissed him carefully. His lips were icy, slowly turning blue in the cold night air, but he felt a burst of heat where they touched the other pair. This was heaven. If Dream was dead and this was simply what he’d conjured to cope, he would be content with it all. Content.

He was pulled from his dream by something; he was okay with that, it didn't matter much. He already felt lighter than he did when he dozed off. Beside his bed, there was a small plate with half a loaf and a glass bottle full of water. For now, this would be enough. He was almost happy, in a weird way, that he had so little to keep himself going. Eating the bread gratefully, he stood up and noticed the pile of clothes, on top of a newly placed chest.

Once he’d finished every crumb he could find, he started dressing himself again. It was almost constraining to wear such heavy garments after being barely dressed for days, but it was also like wearing a comfort blanket. It was routine. White undershirt, dark green shirt and thick black coat. His trousers were a deep brown, and the fabric felt comforting draped over his skin. He tried looking at his reflection in the glass of the bottle, but ultimately failed. It didn’t matter how he looked anyway; he only had one visitor today.

When Technoblade entered the visiting area of the cell, he looked at Dream with a strange mixture of smugness and sympathy. He walked around and observed for a few moments, and he did the exact same back at him. When Techno suddenly stopped, grabbing at the bars almost aggressively, Dream sat down on his bed to listen to whatever was about to come.

“Can’t you just use your god powers to get out of this place, dude? You’re stronger than Sam. You could overpower him.” As if Dream hadn’t already tried that.

“He’s done something that weakens me, I can barely punch him hard enough to stun him.”

Techno rocked back on his heels, and he watched. He could almost see the cogs turning in his brain, wondering whether to mock him or offer support. He suspected he’d get a mixture of the two - sure, he was an asshole, but they’d once been united in a disdain for the government that had been set up. They’d been joined in allyship once. Surely they could overcome their differences and become allies again.

“Okay,” Techno started, clearing his throat before speaking again. “Sam has so many checks in place... you’d be lucky if someone managed to sneak a fucking stick in here. I’m gonna get you out of here, but it might take an army, and I don’t know who’d be willing. You’re not the most popular at the minute, Dreamie.”

Groaning, Dream put his head in his hands. It was true; barely anyone was on his side at the moment. He had Techno, potentially, Tommy, Sapnap and George. At times like this, he almost wished Wilbur was still alive. The dude was annoying as hell, but at least he was charismatic. Weirdly, Wilbur could’ve persuaded the entire kingdom to raid the prison and free Dream from its grip.

“There’s a new kid that just showed up. Wandered straight into the community house obliviously. His name is Ranboo, or something like that; he might be willing to help us.”

“Oh joy,” Dream said sarcastically, “another child willing to blindly run into danger. What’s so special about this one, Techno? You told me the same about Tommy and Tubbo, and now look at them. Tubbo is completely against us, and Tommy is just a fucking asshole.”

“He can pick up anything without breaking it. He’s half Enderman - god knows which one of his parents decided it was a good idea to have sex with one of those motherfuckers.”

Half Enderman? Dream didn’t know that anyone else had been bold enough to try and have a hybrid child besides Techno’s parents. Even then, he was half Piglin, not Enderman. They were notoriously the toughest monsters that roam the Overworld, frightening even the bravest of warriors like himself at points. And then there was the point of him being able to pick up anything. Besides being impressive, it could be helpful in his escape.

They fell into silence again, probably both weighed down by the situation. Laughing softly, Dream spoke up again, trying to lighten the conversation.

“I had a dream about George last night.”

“Oh yeah? Getting your shit rocked?”

“No, asshole. We met in a field, and then walked to this cliff and sat down for a while. I told him I was worried we wouldn’t be the same if I got out. He just reassured me by spouting poetics.”

“I’m not a psychic, Dreamie,” Techno began, “but I think your subconscious is trying to tell you to chill the fuck out. You need to work out those knots in your back, dude.”

The conversation for the rest of the night was light-hearted, and by the time Sam came to drag him away, both of them were in tears from laughing so much. After their goodbyes, Dream sank down to his bed again, yawning and taking a swig from his water bottle. Being alone always wasn’t good for your health, he’d realised, and even having Techno here as a potential ally was comforting to him.

Although happiness is fleeting, isn’t it? Because soon, Dream was contemplating the jump into the lava again. Realistically, the new kid wasn’t going to be a magical escape for him. There was a good chance he’d never get to see George again, or be surrounded by him, or kiss him soft enough to make him work for a proper one. He longed to hear the sound of their shields clattering together once more, the sound of Sapnap’s laugh, the sound of a sword sliding through the moulding flesh of a zombie.

If he closed his eyes tight enough, he could almost feel a hand against his arm. Bats fluttering around weren’t comforting enough; human touch was what he needed. Longing for someone to curl around the curve of his back, he drifted asleep once again, hand over the scars on his heart.

When he opened his eyes again, George was next to him, looking as beautiful as ever, and they kissed for what felt like an eternity. He could be safe here. Asleep forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heres what i imagine the characters look like (all credit to the artists ofc)!!!  
> dream - https://twitter.com/Dreamnyotfound/status/1350988117818408981/photo/1  
> techno + ranboo - https://twitter.com/jingljang/status/1354777202164903939/photo/3  
> george - https://twitter.com/Dreamnyotfound/status/1353615730139295745/photo/1
> 
> and heres some other art i thought was super swaggy:  
> https://twitter.com/Koinko_Tori/status/1355268035645476864/photo/1  
> https://twitter.com/theangelincarn1/status/1354972914555125760/photo/1  
> https://twitter.com/cursedwc/status/1354853811244789765/photo/1


	3. escape.

Surprisingly, no one decided to visit him on the allocated days for what was presumably the next week or so. Dream didn’t actually have a good measure of how much time was passing, so he scratched a mark into the dark walls each time he woke up. There were five on the wall up to then, and he’d only had a visit from Technoblade on the first day. 

Realistically, he was hurt that neither Sapnap or George had attempted to visit him, but he kept making excuses for him. Perhaps Sam had upped the checks and they simply weren’t allowed in because they were so close to him, or maybe he’d stopped all the visits altogether after Techno had come. Either way, it was tearing him apart and leaving him a shell of what he used to be.

George didn’t even show up in his dreams anymore, which were starting to become nightmarish with every night that went on. He was sure he wandered thousands of miles searching for him, the world becoming more and more bleak. Weirdly, he hoped George was feeling the same way. Maybe then, at least someone would be thinking about him.

Sam approached Dream as he sat on the edge of the pit of lava, sighing pitifully. “You look almost pathetic enough that I want to let you free. Someone came to ask after you. He said he didn’t want to see you, or for you to know who he was, but he was worried that you were dead.” It had to be George, right? But why didn’t he want to see him?

On the seventh day, he had the first vivid dream in a week. The sky turned from yellow to a rich purple, and Dream smiled. He truly smiled for the first time in months. He wanted to stay here forever, in the colourful land in his head. There was no one there for once, no one attempting to murder him or kiss him, and that was good. Inhaling the fresh air, he sat in the pink grass and closed his eyes. There was something soothing about knowing you are truly and surely alone in your mind - there was no fragment of doubt in that.

When he opened his eyes, there was himself, standing above him blankly. His eyes looked like they had nothing behind him but regret and shame. The other Dream sat down beside him and stared at the first stars flickering above him.

“You’re worthless,” he said, and the real Dream nodded solemnly, the colours in the sky beginning to fade. “I’m the version of you they put in the kingdom, to oversee your duties in a safe way that you could never have done. If you’re so replaceable, then why would people have you around in the first place?”

By the end of his speech, the sky had turned black and the grass had turned white. His life was colourless, even inside his head. It seemed there was nothing to live for. No one was coming to save him because, if it were to be believed, everyone was happier with the clone living on the outside. Slowly, the land faded around him, and Dream woke once again in his bed.

This time, something was different though. His bed was the same, and when he rose, there was still a plate with half a loaf of bread and a bottle beside it. However, as he wandered around the cell to go about his daily routine, there was a distinct difference. The pit of lava had been drained. Excitedly, and without looking back to collect anything, he was charging away from his cell and towards the outer walls. It wasn’t rational, but he needed to get out. He knew exactly where he was going.

Legs aching, he started to climb up the wall. There had to be a loose brick somewhere, something that Dream could knock out and signal to someone outside. They had to know that he was the real him - whoever the other Dream was, he was a fake.

His thoughts were interrupted by an explosion. It went off outside, he was sure, but slowly advanced closer and closer to the outside of the walls. He held onto the walls, his fingernails pulling and bleeding as he started to lose his grip. Suddenly, after a few moments of silence, an explosion was set off right below him, sending bricks flying everywhere. He dropped down, running through the jagged tunnel that had been created. There was light at the end, and oh god, he was going to make it.

There were footsteps behind him, above him, all around him, and he knew he’d be caught again if he didn’t hurry the fuck up. He was going faster, and faster, and faster - and he reached the light. Laid out in front of him was Manberg, blown to smithereens. But this wasn’t like the other times. There was nothing of note that he could see for miles.

Someone came up behind him and clapped his shoulder, hard. Turning around he saw the grotesque pig-faced mask that Techno wore, and quickly pulled him into a hug.

“They all died, Dream,” he said into his ear, sighing. “Most of them, anyway. Me and Tommy were outside Manberg, and we tried searching through the rubble, but everyone seems to be dead.”

Tommy came up to Dream and held out a scrap of fabric silently. It was blue and red, and he knew instantly where it must’ve come from. There were even dark red splotches covering around where his heart would’ve been. He sobbed weakly, and held it close to his chest.

“Please tell me this is all some sick joke, Techno…” His voice was ragged and broken as he spoke, and he got no reply. “He wasn’t supposed to die - he promised he wouldn’t not until we were both ready to go.”

“It’s your fault,” someone said from behind them. Dream spun around quickly, seeing himself there, except it couldn’t be him. He was himself - and this version of himself still had his mask. This must’ve been the other Dream. “You set it off by trying to escape. This is what will happen when you leave for real; it’s you or them, Dream. Don’t be selfish.”

For real? He looked over the rubble, and rubbed his eyes. Now he was looking properly, this couldn’t be true. There wasn’t TNT powerful enough to blow the whole place to the ground with no survivors, and in one go too. George still had two of his lives left - he wouldn’t be completely dead. He could’ve survived. And how would Techno and Tommy have searched the wreckage that quickly? Slowly, everything started to melt around him, including the fake version of himself.

He woke up in a cold sweat, lying alone in his bed. The lava was still there. He hadn’t escaped. He stood up, and noticed someone standing on the other side of the bars. A familiar set of eyes that he didn’t think he’d ever see again.

“Hi, Dream.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ajfnahfjgs im so sorry for the chapter title!!  
> and for teasing that george was dead -- im very sorry.  
> kinda.  
> \- frankie <333


End file.
